


Guns and Roses

by lenaprr



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Gay, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2019-12-26 00:57:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18272552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lenaprr/pseuds/lenaprr
Summary: Hisoka and Illumi each run their own mafias, gangs, black market trading. Living in the same turf, unknown to each other. That is until Hisoka stumbles into Illumi's coverup job... Running a flower shop.





	1. Chapter 1

Hisoka feels the wind on his face as he speeds, weaving in and out of traffic, his annoyance brimming. He is almost out of gas and a gas station did not appear to exist at the moment. Peeling down a side street, uncaring, pedestrians shoving themselves out of the way as he does not slow for them. Hisoka turns down another street, a less populated one and stops by an orange tree. 

A big sigh leaves him as he opens his phone and calls for someone to bring gas. Sure, someone could pick him up, but he rather not leave his bike. He looks down the street to find it extremely serene and beautiful. It looks like a picture someone would post to Instagram… Maybe he should take one for his. 

Someone catches his eye and he flickers his gaze over to a beautiful shop window. A flower shop. Inside, Hisoka can see a beautiful man reaching up to water a hanging plant. Black hair cascades like a waterfall down his back, his gaze concentrated but his face remains blank. He has dark eyes which catch his gaze when he stops reaching for the planter. Nothing betrays the emotionless face and he just continues to water his plants. 

Hisoka makes a beeline for the store. Walking into the cool space excitedly, seeking out the long-haired man. The man fit the serenity of the street, he was beautiful. The man glances over at him.

“Can I help you with something?” He asks, standing up straight to face him. Hisoka makes it obvious he’s checking him out, not necessarily purposefully, but how could he not give him a good once-over. He had a lean body, still strong, no visible scars or blemishes. His face stony, blank, any emotion would have to be gathered from what could be seen in those dark eyes.  
“Tell me about flowers,” Hisoka hums and the man blows air out of his nose rather aggressively before picking up a pink flower.

“This a rhododendron,” he says, delicate fingers hold them with care, the pink flowers bunched together on a stem. “They’re very pretty, and generally mean elegance and wealth. They symbolize strong emotions of passion…” The man hands him the flower but when Hisoka takes it, the flower starts to fall apart. “They’re fragile, which is why they were used to represent a death threat.” His voice is sickly sweet and Hisoka knows what the beautiful man is trying to get across with the meaning of this flower. He was annoyed with Hisoka.

That, however, did not matter, in fact, it makes Hisoka more interested. “Are you threatening me?”

“Maybe,” the man hums in response. 

“That’s kinda hot.” 

The man returns the phrase with a sharp, dark look. If looks could kill, Hisoka would be dead, or so the phrase goes. Well… He hasn’t said he’s straight so, that’s something at least. Hisoka smiles generously in response before hearing another bike come down the street. He glances out the window, seeing someone pulling up beside his bike. His gas. 

“I’ll have to visit again,” Hisoka smiles sweetly, “could I get your name?”

“No,” the man walks behind the counter and Hisoka narrows his eyes, watching him fill up the old plastic pitcher, his watering can, with water. “I thought you were leaving?” He flicks his gaze up.

“Is that good customer service?”

“Sorry,” the man looks away, “I forgot to say, have a nice day.” 

Hisoka smirks as he walks out of the shop, knowing full well he’ll be back.


	2. Chapter 2

Hisoka flicks through his Instagram page, legs kicked up on his desk. Someone had previously walked in, telling him about their last drug sale. Successful, as always.

Hisoka had been brought up alone. Orphaned, hardly no parental figures, he had to learn on his own. And so he did. Hisoka had slipped into the business of the black market all too easily. And not that he did drugs, ever, but they were an easy thing to make big bank off of. Hisoka learned that one real fast. 

His gaze turns up when Chrollo walks in. Chrollo he met among his many journeys, he ran his own business, and it didn’t interfere with Hisoka’s. Neither of them really cared to fight each other, they operated out of different cities, no need. Hisoka enjoyed a good brawl, but he also enjoyed good business. Fighting with someone like Chrollo would bring both of their sales down.

“Have you not heard the news?” Chrollo raises a brow at Hisoka’s posture.

“Which news?” Hisoka sits up curiously.

“You’ve got a third competitor… Someone else is trying to sell in the city.”

“You mean, not the weapons cartel?”

“Someone else is trying to sell drugs, Hisoka.”

He narrows his eyes. Hisoka knew of another business within the city, but he never bothered to even meet with them. They sold weapons, that was no competition to him. But who moved into his city and was trying to sell his stuff? That is concerning.  
Not to mention, how did Chrollo hear of it before he did?

“Do you have any details?” Hisoka twirls a pen in between his fingers before putting it to a sticky note, waiting on Chrollo.

“Yesterday, Machi came in and told me,” Chrollo hums. “All she said was some scum who used to buy from us was getting it somewhere else. Then she traced it back to a group called the Zoldycks.”

“The Zoldycks…” Hisoka leans back, writing the name onto the sticky note. “Guess I’ll have to track them down and kill them.”

“I’d be careful Hisoka, they’re a family who have been in this business for generations,” Chrollo warns. “They won’t be easy to knock down.”

Hisoka feels a spark of interest. “All the more fun.”

Chrollo sighs. “You know what you need, a girlfriend. So you can get out of this damn business.”

“Or a boyfriend. But no.”

“Hisoka you know you have an out no one else has.”

He does. Hisoka grew up in nothing. No one has any real records of him. Hisoka could disappear off the face of the earth and no one would notice. No records of him existed, he made his way to the top through the dark web and black market, he never had to exist. Born in Meteor City, the city where no one kept records in the first place, just helped. Now he could buy his way into anything. 

“You have a similar option,” Hisoka reminds. “We could just get married and leave this place.”

Chrollo gives him a look in response. “You know I can’t leave.”

Chrollo, although also technically doesn’t exist, also born in Meteor City, didn't have records. But he did have somewhat of a chosen family. He wouldn’t leave them, not for anything. He was the head of the spider.

Hisoka sighs and stands. “Fine then, don’t marry me. I even had a ring for you.” 

“Sure you did.”

Hisoka walks over to the corkboard full of random sticky notes and newspaper clippings and random printed out sheets. The new yellow sticky note is added, ‘The Zoldycks’ scrawled on it in neat handwriting. 

“How do you know I don’t? You broke it off because of your family,” Hisoka sneers.

Another reason the two of them wouldn’t fight. They dated, and it was good. They had it good. However Machi was never fond of Hisoka. Neither was most of Chrollo’s chosen family. Chrollo decided he couldn’t be with someone his family didn’t like. It left Hisoka pretty torn for a while, but he got over it. Hisoka has been used to hurt his whole life. Not that they didn’t like Hisoka, they just didn’t like Hisoka dating their mom… Or wait, that should be gang leader. They acted like Chrollo was their mom though. 

“Hisoka,” Chrollo sighs and walks over, kissing his cheek. “You’ll find someone worth loving.”

“One night stands don’t cut it Chrollo,” Hisoka looks down on him. “You were worth loving.”

Chrollo smiles softly. “I didn’t come here to be wooed back into your arms.”

“You wouldn’t stoop to my level again.” 

“I came to tell you personally about the Zoldycks… And hopefully for dinner tonight.”

“Not a date though.”

“Not a date,” Chrollo confirms. “Our favourite bar. Eight p-m.” 

“Alright, I’ll see you there.” Hisoka sighs and watches the smaller man leave. He had minor lingering feelings for Chrollo, but mostly, he was just angry with Chrollo for it. Chrollo knew of course, Chrollo got over his feelings for Hisoka however pretty quickly. Sometimes Hisoka realized they probably never really loved each other, they only got together because they come from similar backgrounds. So it doesn’t make him feel as bad that they broke up, however he always figured no one would love him, so finding Chrollo… He was hopeful for something he thought he wouldn’t have. Their relationship was good… Just somewhat forced on both ends. Both of them wanting something neither thought they could have.

Hisoka finds himself on his bike, driving mindlessly. Chrollo visiting this time upset him for some reason. He wasn’t sure why. It’s not until he finds himself on the same little serene street that he snaps out of his thoughts. Parking all too quickly to walk into the same flower shop. 

The beautiful man is there. He is writing something down behind his counter and looks up when Hisoka comes in the store. 

“Why are you here?” 

“It’s a public store, can’t I be here?”

He doesn’t respond, instead dips his head back down, hair falling into his face as he continues to write. 

The flower shop is set up differently than a normal one. It looks like someone's garden was put directly inside a store. Someone could have their wedding pictures done in here and it would look like they went to some botanical garden. 

He glances over at the man who is holding out a bright orange flower. “This is a butterfly weed, it means leave me.”

“Does it actually?” Hisoka raises an eyebrow.

“Yes.”

“Do you just hide that back there to give it to people you don’t like.”

“Maybe.” 

Hisoka takes it and slips the stem behind his ear, so the bunch of flowers sit next to his striking red hair. But he doesn’t leave, he instead continues to look around. He finds himself standing in front of some striking purple flowers. They look like ones he sees a lot just in general, however, Hisoka knows nothing about flowers. Even when he goes to look at other flowers in the shop, he is drawn back to the little purple ones.

“Petunias,” the man walks over. “I think we are drawn to the flowers that represent what we are feeling.” 

“And what do petunias mean?” Hisoka hums, thinking the notion is just a little stupid.

“Resentment… Anger.” 

Hisoka’s breath gets caught for a moment. That is exactly how he’s feeling. Maybe the man’s stupid notion isn’t so stupid after all. 

“What are you angry at?” The man leans toward him a little, the tone of his voice and the facial expression show no indication of actual curiosity. “I’m only asking because no one else has come in today, I’m bored.”

“I’m angry you won’t tell me your name,” Hisoka replies with, not wanting to tell the stunning man about his failed relationship with Chrollo. 

“Then tell me yours,” he counters.

“Hisoka.”

“Illumi.”

The name is fitting. It’s got a soft kind of ring to it. It fits the man before him so perfectly. 

“Illumi,” Hisoka repeats softly, smiling a little. Illumi gives him a look. “What flower are you drawn to today?”

“Mock oranges,” Illumi says. “They mean deceit.”

“Who might you be deceiving?”

“Maybe the person in front of me,” Illumi huffs. For some reason, Hisoka feels that is both true and false at the same time. “The butterfly weed doesn’t look bad in your hair.” Illumi adds suddenly, reaching up and gently fiddling with the flower. “But the colours of your makeup don’t match.”

“And what colours would you propose?”

“A yellow,” Illumi points to one cheek. “And an orange.” He points to the cheek opposite the flowers. 

“Maybe tomorrow.”

“I don’t want you to come back,” Illumi hisses in annoyance.

“I will. Tomorrow.” 

Illumi once again gives one of the ‘if looks could kill’ glares. However it’s interrupted by someone loudly coming into the store. Hisoka looks back to find a beat up white haired kid stumbling in. Illumi pushes Hisoka out of the way and cups the boys face, Illumi looks like a mother as he does, his eyes full of both worry and anger.

“Heyyy, brother,” the white hair boy smiles, busted lip breaking and bleeding a little.

They hardly look like brothers… Hisoka catches a glimpse of a cut that definitely needs tending to. What the hell did this boy get into. 

“Wait here.” Hisoka goes to his bike and grabs the kit he always keeps, one for occasions exactly as such since he himself never knows what he might get into. He walks back in, both of them gone. However he hears Illumi saying something about how he can’t go to the hospital and how Illumi didn’t know how to fix him up. 

Hisoka slips into the backroom, the boy sitting on a stool and Illumi standing threateningly in front. Hisoka kneels, ignoring the bickering and grabs the materials he needs. He lifts the boys shirt a little and without warning, starts the stitches. The boy jolts, but Hisoka continues regardless. 

Illumi falls silent, watching Hisoka. Hisoka had done this many times over. For Chrollo, Chrollo’s chosen family, his own men, even himself. Hisoka finishes quickly and then furthers the process, gently wiping rubbing alcohol over it, making the boy hiss in pain, Illumi muttering a ‘you deserve it.’

Hisoka stands, tilting the boys bruised face up to look at him, scanning for any other injuries he may need tended to. He looked maybe fifteen, what kind of thing would he have gotten into to get beat this badly?   
“Shoulda seen the other guys,” the boy says, left eye and cheek bruised, lip busted. 

“Ice it,” Hisoka says, putting his stuff away.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” The boy counters. 

“I used to street fight,” Hisoka glances over. “Had to learn it for myself.” That wasn’t a lie in any way. Hisoka only became one of the best fighters because of how much he got beat. 

The backroom has a kitchenette and Hisoka realizes the place is an apartment, the shop underneath. Illumi must live here. 

“I’ll leave you two to it then,” Hisoka decides, still feeling the tension between the brothers. He makes his way out but as Hisoka gets to the door, Illumi calls out.

“Maybe you can come tomorrow.”


	3. Chapter 3

The office is too quiet today and Hisoka wishes he stayed at home. It’s all too soon he decides to visit the flower shop again. The comforting little flower shop with the most beautiful man, Illumi. This time he takes a moment to read the name of the store. ‘Graceful Petals’ is written in cursive, vines surrounding the shop walls.

“Bonjour, mon cheri,” Hisoka smiles as he walks in. To his surprise, Illumi doesn’t react aggressively at the statement, simply glances up at him. Illumi is on his knees, arranging a beautiful set of flowers. 

“I didn’t think you spoke French,” Illumi counters instead.

“Tres peu,” Hisoka offers a hand but Illumi swats it away and stands. 

“Tu es sous merdes,” Illumi says directly at him and Hisoka blinks a few times.

“I am… What?”

“Sous merde.”

“What does that mean?”

Illumi walks away and Hisoka frowns at his back. He’s never gonna get the meaning to that one. Hisoka watches as Illumi flips the sign to closed and locks the door, Hisoka raises an eyebrow in turn. 

“What’s going on?” Hisoka watches Illumi walk into the backroom. 

“You’re too distracting, I can’t have customers come in while you’re here,” Illumi glances back. “You coming?” 

Hisoka follows him through the backroom and up some stairs to an absolutely stunning apartment. How a florist could afford the small but luxurious space, Hisoka has no idea. Third day and he’s already in the man’s house? Now that’s fascinating, considering how much Illumi seems to dislike him.

Illumi disappears into another room and comes back making Hisoka give a hard swallow. He changed his clothes. You’d think that is normal, but this man knew how to be a tease. No, Hisoka takes that back, Illumi definitely had no idea what his clothes are doing. He’ll make heads turn looking like that. Tight black leather pants with a grey turtleneck that hugs all the right places, he begins to lace up some combat boots and Hisoka does his best not to stare. 

Illumi slides a piece of hair behind his ear and looks up at Hisoka through his lashes. “I can feel you looking at me, is something wrong?”

No… Not like Illumi looks like someone Hisoka wants to kiss until their lips hurt. Not like the gaze Illumi is giving him is so sexual it’s almost causing physical pain. “No,” Hisoka hums in response. “I just like to admire art.”

Illumi snorts and stands straight, finishing tying his boots. He picks up a wallet, sliding it into his pocket. “Let’s go.”

“Where are we going?” Hisoka tilts his head, watching him carefully. He never wanted to take his gaze off Illumi. Illumi is the image of beauty, he is just so… perfect. 

“Coffee.”

“Is this a date?”

“I just want coffee and you have a bike.”

Hisoka doesn’t object, taking the address from Illumi. He puts his helmet on Illumi’s head, much to Illumi’s dismay, going without one himself. Illumi holds Hisokas waist, no question, as he speeds off. Hisoka is relatively surprised, except for the fact Illumi is too oblivious to know any different. Hisoka welcomes the touch as he weaves through traffic. 

He notices Illumi occasionally letting go with a hand, until finally, Illumi wraps one arm tightly around Hisoka’s waist. When Hisoka glances back, Illumi’s free hand is in the air, and he’s watching it curiously. 

“Have you never been on a bike before?” Hisoka muses as they stop for a light, looking back at the man. Illumi looks at him, the unmistakable tinge of pink embarrassment on his cheeks. Hisoka grins, first time on a bike is the best. “Hold on.”

The light turns green and Hisoka whizzes by. He makes his way to open roads where when you go fast, it feels like you might be flying. He stops before the stretch of road and glances back at Illumi. 

“Ready?”

Illumi’s excitement is so evident despite his relatively emotionless face. His dark eyes are sparkling, a change from his generally hostile exterior. Hisoka takes off, fast enough Illumi lurches, making him hold onto Hisoka impossibly tighter. Together, they fly down the street, going way over any marked speed limit. Behind him he hears Illumi laugh and it sparks something in his chest. It is a beautiful laugh. 

Taking a turn so that his leg almost brushes the ground makes Illumi grip his waist. Maybe out of fear, maybe excitement. But overall, Illumi seems to be enjoying himself. They drive around for an hour, finding a dirt patch and doing stupid things like donuts and how many tricks can Hisoka do. Illumi is completely enthralled. 

“Coffee now,” Hisoka says softly when he notices the man tiring. Not of his excitement, but it suddenly seems obvious to Hisoka that Illumi has deep eye bags. Why hadn’t he noticed before? He drives slower, sweeter, taking them back down into the busy town and down to the coffee shop Illumi wanted.

The bike remains on the sidewalk as they head into the shop, Illumi removing the helmet. “When we do that again, you need a helmet too.”

“You’re saying we will do it again?” Hisoka muses. 

Illumi ignores his question and walks up to the counter to order. Hisoka slips behind him, ordering and paying for the both of them. They sit together at a table, coffees in hand. It doesn’t take Hisoka long to realize it’s a cat cafe, the creatures mostly in a pen, save for the odd one on the lap of a customer. Of course Illumi likes cats. He decides to ignore the animals and turns his gaze to Illumi. 

“You didn’t sleep well,” Hisoka states finally. “Why?”

The man sits in silence for a moment, processing what he just said, clearly thinking of an answer. “Killua.”

“Killua?”

“My brother. The one you stitched up.”

“What about him?”

Illumi gives a look that cuts the conversation short. He obviously does not want to talk about it. Inwardly, Hisoka hopes the boy is okay. Especially after getting into a fight like that. Hisoka sips his coffee, looking out the window, people watching. 

“Did you do drag races, with your bike?” Illumi asks suddenly and Hisoka eyes him curiously.

“What makes you ask that?”

“The way you moved with that bike… It was like an extension of yourself, you just moved with it so well.”

“I may have raced once or twice.”

“Hmm,” Illumi leans back, holding his cup with two hands. “Can you come back to the flower shop tomorrow?”

A waitress walks up before Hisoka can answer and he watches Illumi grow hostile again, closed off. 

“I just wanted to ask if you wanted anything else?” The woman smiles and it instantly becomes obvious to Hisoka she wants their attention. He knew he had that effect on people, whereas Illumi had no idea. It amuses him greatly when Illumi narrows his eyes at his cup, annoyed with her interruption. 

“We’re okay, thank you,” Hisoka smiles up at her and she waits an extra awkward moment, causing Illumi to huff, which is when she walks away. “You’re funny.” 

“Who, me?”

“Yes, you.”

Illumi falls silent and Hisoka decides he dislikes the waitress. She made Hisoka lose the connection he had with Illumi, he was opening up. His hostile personality is thrilling, but that doesn’t mean Hisoka doesn’t want to see his excitement, his kindness, his delicacy… All the little things he’s noticed over the past three days. He wants more.

“I’ll come to the shop tomorrow,” Hisoka offers with a smile. 

Illumi looks at him and it feels like a stare down, Hisoka holding his gaze. His dark eyes are swirling, thinking, before his eyes flicker down and they widen a little.

“You did it!”

“Did what?”

Illumi grabs Hisoka’s face with both his hands, suddenly fascinated. “Yellow and orange.” His hostility forgotten again, instead perplexed by the man before him. Illumi has no idea what he’s doing to Hisoka right now. None at all. He’s so oblivious. The marks on his face he made yellow and orange today, for Illumi. “We need to go back to the shop, I need to get you a flower.”


End file.
